"Ah, ha!" he exclaimed, "you've been a-shav-ing yerself!"

He dropped his walking-stick and hopped over it two or three times, and cackled, "Ha, ha! ho, ho! You're going to have a mustache, and then you're going to see a gal by the name o' Mary."

The Hand-Made Gentleman — Part 11

It seemed as if ruin stared me in the face.

The Hand-Made Gentleman — Part 11

"Lend me two dollars," Bony Squares demanded. "Come, be quick about, it or I'll tell on ye--hope t' die if I don't."

The Hand-Made Gentleman — Part 11

It was to me a large sum, for my income was only four dollars and twenty-five cents a month. But my fear of ridicule had the persuasiveness of a thumb-screw. I had two dollars and nineteen cents that I had been saving for the fair at Heartsdale. With great solemnity I took the two-dollar bill out of my pocket and put it in the hand of my oppressor.

"I'm going for a drive to-night," he said, as he took the money. "It's a matter of business that 'll pay me pretty well, and I may need some help. Come along, and I'll pay you back the money I've borrowed and a dollar besides."

"Oh, down the country about fifteen miles. I'm going to get a Bungwood cow for a friend o' mine."

"An imported breed," said he, "and the best in the world. They're frisky and a little dangerous."

That seemed to me rather curious, but, then, I did not know much about cows. It was a greater compliment than I had ever received--the invitation of this imperial and heroic figure; but I concealed my joy with a look of calmness.

The jaunty fellow crossed the floor, rattling his change and singing, "Oh, we won't go home till morning!" He turned quickly and said, with a sober face: "I'll get ye here in good season. Tell 'em you're going to stay with a friend, an' will be back in the morning."

I lied about it, for I knew that Mr. Weatherby had no high opinion of Bony Squares, and got permission to go.

At seven o'clock that evening I set out for the corner below Mill Pond, where Bony, with a horse and a buckboard, was to wait for me. There he was, and away we went; and the horse's hoofs beat time for a lively ditty sung by my new friend. The chill night fell, and a sense of sadness and regret was in me. To what place he drove, or how long it took him to get there, I know not even now. After a long time I fell asleep. A rude shake and the light of a lantern awoke me. I got out of the buggy in a shed back of a little church.